The Healer and the Auror
by DREWHHR
Summary: Five years after the War, Harry is an Auror and Hermione is a Healer. Harry has been suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder and Hermione has been trying to heal him ever since but he is reluctant to move on. An accident occurs during an Auror mission and Hermione is determined to help him fight to live.
1. The Healer

**Wassup? I know, I know. I haven't updated _Deathly Hallow: Part 1_ in a while. I'm sorry. But this story just got into my head and I need to get it down. So, I just recently started watching _Grey's Anatomy _and I got an idea for this. I'm not really familiar with the medical field. So all of my knowledge about it is from the Internet and _Grey's Anatomy_. And honestly, it is so difficult trying to write magical hospital stuff. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own _Harry Potter_, J.K. Rowling does.**

**_The Healer and the Auror_  
**

**_Chapter One_**

**_The Healer_**

Hermione Granger was tired. She had been working since five that morning. Her shift at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was almost over. Just another hour and she could go home and get some sleep. She knew she probably had bags under her eyes. An eighteen-hour shift at a hospital would do that to you. She sometimes wondered why she became a Healer. It wasn't for the money, she knew that. It wasn't because she was bored neither. Maybe it was because after the War, so many had died. And it got to her. She didn't want anyone else to die. She didn't want anyone else to feel the sense of loss.

Life after the War was...unnerving. After finding her parents in Australia, restoring their memories, and helping them move back to England, she moved in with her best friend, Harry Potter, in his parents' old house in Godric's Hollow. He spent days working on fixing it up, turning his old nursery into his godson, Teddy's, nursery. Harry wanted the child to stay at his house occasionally. A child was without care and usually, always happy. But it couldn't stop what came at night.

Hermione knew he was having bad dreams. She could hear him in the next room at night and saw the bags under his eyes. Sure, she had some, too, but that was because of work. It had been five years since the Final Battle and he was still having nightmares. She held him. She comforted him. Sometimes, she even slept in his bed. But it wasn't enough. The War had taken its toll and it broke him, ripping pieces and bits off of him, one by one. He started Auror training after three months to keep himself occupied, while Hermione went into Healer training. He blamed himself for the deaths during the War. She tried to reassure him that it was his fault but it never worked. No matter how much he masked himself, Hermione knew there was part of him that was missing and hurt. And it hurt her to see him like this. Physically, emotionally, mentally. She loved him. In every way. But nothing she could do would heal him.

"Look alive, Granger," Healer Locksley, her supervising Healer, told her as she passed her in hall and saw her yawn. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled slightly. She needed some coffee. "Go check 412's temp, please." Healer Locksley was a bit of a hard-ass but she made Hermione a better Healer. She nodded and made her way down the corridor to Room 412. A ten-year-old little girl had went on a joyride on a broomstick and had fallen off twenty feet. She managed to accidentally apparate herself onto the roof of her home just before hitting the ground but she ended up splinching herself, slicing her leg. She had been told that if she hadn't had apparated herself, the damage would have been worse. Hermione had taken her vitals before and young Lucy had told her that she had no regrets, which made the young Healer smile.

"Hey, Lucy," she said softly as she entered the room. A small brown-haired, young girl woke up and groaned a bit. Her left leg was elevated on couple of pillows and bandaged around the knee. "Sorry to wake you and I know it's late, but it's time to check your temperature." Her mother, who was lying on the couch on the opposite side of the room knitting a red sweater, looked up when she walked in. Lucy sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay. Leg's a bit sore," she answered, looking at her limb.

"No pain, though?"

Lucy shook her head. Hermione smiled. "Good." She ran the tip of her wand over her patient's forehead from the left to the right very slowly, then waved it in the air in front of her. "37.7 Celsius" appeared in light orange letters. "Not too bad. Just above the norm. But nothing too major," she told Lucy's mother, who nodded and smiled.

"She's been feeling fine," she confirmed to Hermione.

"We just have to make sure it doesn't get any higher. And keep monitoring your leg. Why were you on a broomstick?" she asked the little girl. "Planning to be a professional Quidditch player?"

Lucy shook her head. "No. I saw my older brother flying with his friends one day, so I took his broomstick and tried it out." Lucy's mother shook her head with a reproachful look and a roll of her eyes. Clearly, she had already torn her daughter a new one for flying when she didn't know how. "I actually want to be an Auror."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Your friend, Harry Potter, is one, isn't he?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, he is. It's a dangerous job, though. Sometimes, he can be away for months at a time and his missions are sometimes top secret. Do you think you can handle it?"

"I think so."

"Well, if you're up for the rigorous training, I think you would be a great Auror. We just need to get this leg healed up so you can get stronger."

"I read about you, you know."

After the War, she, Harry, and Ron were made into the history books and schoolbooks. Everyone who hadn't known Harry Potter before the War now knew his name, her name, and Ron's name. A ball was even given in their honor where they received the Order of Merlin, First Class about a month after the War. Harry was reluctant to attend, feeling as if he hadn't earned it. But Hermione convinced him to go when she told him that she would be right beside him the whole time. "Nothing bad, I hope," Hermione replied with a chuckle.

"No. Nothing bad at all. You were very good at combat spell work yourself. What made you become a Healer?" she asked.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but before she could, she heard Healer Locksley's voice at the door frame. "Granger! Emergency in the ER! Now!" She got into motion, fleeing the hospital room and running down the hall and through the Emergency Room door, other Healer interns hot on her heels. When she opened the door, she paused. Auror robes everywhere. There must have been about half a dozen or a little more Aurors in the Emergency Room, either supporting someone or being supported. Her heart stopped. This was the worst part of her job. Seeing Aurors. She was always so afraid she would see the one person she wished she would never see in a hospital. The man she loved.

Other Healer interns had already jumped into action. Her colleague, Sam Baines, was tending to an Auror who was seizing on a gurney. Jessie Palmer was helping another Auror whose leg was clearly broken and bleeding. Thing was, the more she looked at the Aurors, she realized she recognized them. One was more familiar than the other. They looked like the Aurors in Harry and Ron's team. Suddenly, she saw a mop of orange-red hair that was caked in blood. His left arm was hidden from view, probably cradled against his chest. He was standing on his right leg in front of a gurney. Something was wrong with his right leg. Fractured or something.

"Ron!" At the sound of his name, he spun around, wincing painfully, towards her. She ran up to him. "Ron, what happened?!"

"We were on a mission...we were trying to save a young boy who was being...experimented on with Dark Magic...and...th-they came out of nowhere. Leftover Death Eaters. W-we were outnumbered. Most of us got away but-"

"Where's Harry?!"

Ron didn't speak. Why wasn't he speaking?! Where was Harry?! Where was he?! Her heart stopped again. No. It couldn't be true. It could not be true. She wouldn't believe it. No. Not Harry. Not her Harry. She got a sudden flashback of emotion from the Final Battle when Voldemort and his followers came back from the Forbidden Forest, escorting Hagrid with a limp Harry in his arms. And Voldemort telling everyone that their beloved friend was dead.

"Ron..." she said softly, her heart falling more and more. "No. No! Where is he?!" When he would not respond she yelled, "TELL ME!"

He moved aside and revealed Harry laying on the gurney. She gasped.

He was fidgeting violently, his body thrashing. He wasn't seizing, he was trying to not to show how much pain he was in. Blood was all over his chest, rapidly gushing out. Cartwright and Torrens were running diagnostics over him and covering his chest with gauze, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Harry jumped in front of the boy to protect him. But one of the Death Eater must have recognized him. It was _Sectumsempra_. I don't even know where it came from," Ron explained.

Hermione hurriedly stepped up to her roommate's side. "Harry!" She immediately helped Torrens try to contain the bleeding. She waved her wand to try to stop the blood from gushing out but it wouldn't close, so she grabbed several pieces of gauze and held it against his wound. He looked up at her through his fits. "Hey, Doc." When Hermione had passed her Healer Exams, he gave her the nickname "Doc". He grimaced in pain.

"Ron! _He's_ _bleeding to death_! You are trained in the basics of Healing! You know the counter-curse. Why didn't you cast it?!"

"I _did_, Hermione! But...it didn't work. It must be a modified version of _Sectumsempra_. The spell...it...it sliced across his chest over his heart," he told her, his eyes widening as if he could not believe it himself. "He shouldn't even be alive."

Hermione shot her head to look at him. Tears welled up in her eyes. She felt as if her own heart was completely broken. "No...no! This can't be real. Please, tell me it's not real." _'Someone save him! Someone needs to save him! Make him better. Fix him. Don't let him die,_ she thought, forgetting she was a Healer.

_Sectumsempra _was a curse invented by her late Potions professor, Severus Snape, during his childhood. It was like an invisible knife cutting the victim's flesh pretty deep, killing the victim by blood loss. There was a counter-curse to reverse its effects and it would heal the skin it punctured, sealing it up.

Harry's heart was big. When she was in training, he let her perform Diagnosis Spells on him as practice that showed his whole body and his organs in a misty, yellow glow above his body. It was the spell that allowed Healers to see what was wrong with the patient. She was surprised at how big his heart was, despite how low and depressed he was feeling in his life.

But the heart is not so easily healed.

TBC...

* * *

**Well, that's chapter one. Sorry it's a bit short. This will probably be a 4-chapter story maybe. I don't know. Now, I have to go shower and after I have to babysit but I wanted to get this story out.**

**Pleez review.**

**DREWHHR**


	2. The Auror

**Hey, thanks for the reviews!**

**Guest 1: Thank you. Yes, I know. I don't know a whole lot about medicine or surgical terms. I'm doing the best I can.**

**Here's chapter 2.**

**_Chapter Two_**

**_The Auror_**

_Earlier that night_

Auror Harry Potter, his best friend Auror Ron Weasley, and about nine other men and women that comprised of his Auror team stood outside an abandoned broomstick warehouse, where inside, a young seven-year-old Muggleborn boy was being experimented on with Dark Magic.

Harry peeked into a grime-covered window and his eyes widened. There were seven Death Eaters standing around the boy, who was tied down in a chair. One, who seemed to be the leader, pointed his wand at the frightened child. A jet of black spellfire shot out and hit the boy in the chest. Anger filled Harry's whole being.

He turned to his Auror group, "We need to act quickly. They're torturing him!" His other team members nodded and they sprang into action, shooting spellfire at the windows, shattering them. The Death Eater guards fired back. There were nine or ten of them. Harry noticed the leader was still firing at the little boy.

"You deal with this lot!" he shouted to the other Death Eaters. "I can't break the spell yet! Cover me!"

Harry made his way over to him, quickly taking out the two Death Eaters that were protecting him. "_Expelliarmus_!" The spell was halted and the boy collapsed into unconsciousness. The Death Eater's wand clattered on the floor thirty feet away. Harry rushed in front of the young boy, pointing his wand at anyone that got close. Before he could start interrogating the leader, he heard him yell, "NOW!"

Suddenly, a dozen or so Death Eaters appeared and more spellfire ensued. Harry watched as the leader gave him a wicked smile. "I know who you are," he said. "It's Harry Potter. We have something special for _you_."

Another Death Eater stepped in front of Harry. "_Sectumsempra Maxima_!"

Pain. Pain was all he felt. He let out a loud, piercing scream. His hand went his chest. Warm and gooey. _'Blood_' he thought as he fell to the ground.

"HARRY!"

He looked up and saw red hair. "Ron..."

He screamed in pain as he dropped to the ground. "Harry. Hold on. Hold on. _Vulnera Santentur_," he pointed his wand at Harry's chest, saying the counterspell. It looked like he had severely hurt his leg. The cut began to heal but the part that was over his heart would not close. "No! Why won't it close?!"

"Ron, make sure the boy's okay."

"I need to get you to a hospital. Hermione will fix you right up."

"Hermione..."

* * *

"We need to get him to Trauma Room Seven!" Hermione exclaimed to Torrens and Cartwright as she and the two other Healer interns pushed Harry's gurney towards the door. He was still fidgeting and still losing blood. She looked around hastily and saw Natalie Cooke had finished splinting another Auror's arm.

"Natalie!" she called out. Her colleague's head shot up and looked at her. "Get a wheelchair for Ron and bring him to an empty room. And make sure someone notifies his wife, Luna Weasley." The young Healer nodded and got to work, jogging over to the wheelchair station and rolling one over to Ron.

Cartwright opened the door and they wheeled Harry into the Trauma Center. Hermione looked at him, trying to stop the tears. She needed to focus on saving her best friend. "Oh, Harry..." she whispered. "Just hang in there. I'm right here, okay?" He gave her a small nod before passing out.

Locksley rushed up to them. "What do we have?"

"It's Harry. A modified _Sectumsempra _nicked his heart during an Auror mission. Another Auror casted the counter-curse but it didn't seal up. He's losing blood fast." They approached Trauma Room Seven and they wheeled Harry into the room. Locksley held her arm to prevent her from following the gurney and called to the other interns, "Torrens, Cartwright, perform more Diagnostic Spells and continue to try to stop the blood flow!"

"On it!" Torrens responded.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused as to why Locksley wouldn't let her in the room.

"I can't let you on his case," she replied.

"Why not?"

"Because the man is your best friend and roommate. He's personal to you. Something could go wrong."

Harry was losing blood by the second so Hermione spoke quickly, "I've treated him many times. No one knows him like I do. I assure you, Healer Locksley, that you will find no one else in this world-let alone this hospital-that is more determined to save his life than me." She hoped she would not argue back. Hermione believed she had the skills to save his life. She used to heal him when he would come home from a mission on her nights off. They were minor cuts and bruises. Nothing too big. She knew every scar and injury on his body.

Locksley bit her lip. Hermione could not believe her boss was thinking about this instead of helping a patient. Finally, Locksley sighed and said with a stern look, "When I say back off, you back off. Do _not_ make me regret this." Hermione nodded and she and Locksley rushed into the trauma room and got to work. His shattered glasses had been taken off of his face and placed on the side table. Either Torrens or Cartwright had already performed a Diagnostic Spell and an image of his heart hovered over his body. Hermione could see the small puncture wound about five millimeters long in his right ventricle glowing black on the Diagnosis image.

"Torrens! Go into the supply closet and get some Blood Replenishing Potions and Essence of Dittany." Her fellow Healer rushed into action getting three bottles of the former and one bottle of the latter. "Pour them into his mouth." Torrens uncorked one of the bottles and tilted Harry's head back so she could administer the Potion while Hermione unstoppered the Essence of Dittany and slowly dripped it over the wound on Harry's chest and watched as it sealed up. She looked at his Diagnostic image and smiled as the tear in the heart closed up. But not for long.

It opened up again and more blood poured out. "Shit! The nick's not closing!"

"What do we do then, Granger?" Locksley asked her. She was testing her. Hermione could tell that was what she was doing. If there ever was a time to prove herself a good resident Healer, it was now.

Hermione looked at her, her brain running a mile a minute. Searching her brain for a solution. "I think we need to do the Core Strengthening Spell. He's powerful enough. That way he can find his own way to heal himself. If the wound won't close, he'll have to find a way to do it himself."

Locksley shook her head. "Granger, that's a powerful spell. It could kill him. I don't think-"

"He's _strong enough_," Hermione reiterated with force, looking at her superior. Healer Locksley saw the fire in her eyes and backed off. If this were a different person, Healer Locksley would have retorted and fought back but she trusted her young Healer. Their patient was Harry fucking Potter, for fuck's sake. Locksley doubted there wasn't anyone Mr. Potter trusted with his life other than Miss Granger.

"Alright, then, Granger. I hope you know what you're doing. Don't mess this up."

Hermione nodded and then pointed her wand at her best friend and waved it this way and that way for the complicated Core Strengthening Spell. Its use was only for the most powerful of wizards and witches and was used only as a last resort. If it was used on magical beings with a weak core, it could kill them. But not Harry. What it did was it put the person in a stasis and allowed the wizard or witch to heal themselves using their magical core. There was only one problem.

Would Harry _want_ to heal himself or just let go?

Once it was performed, she told Torrens to get more bottles of Blood Replenishing Potion and poured a couple into his mouth until he had enough and was stable. His eyes closed as the Spell took effect and he went into a form of a coma.

"Do you know what to do now, Granger?" Locksley asked her.

She nodded. "Yes. I need to talk to him. Try to help him heal himself."

"Okay. You stay with him. Talk to him. Torrens, Cartwright, you come with me. We got more people that need saving." All three of the Healers left Hermione alone in the room with her comatose best friend.

The young Healer pulled a chair closer, took his hand, and began to whisper into his ear, "Harry. Harry, it's me. It's Hermione. Listen to me...you need to heal yourself. Okay? I've done all I can but you need to make yourself better. You need to fix the hole in your heart. I know you feel like you can't carry on but you have to try. Please. Do it for your godson. Do it for Teddy. Please, Harry. Please. Do it for me. Do it for me, Harry. Do it for the people you love." A lone tear rolled down her cheek.

"Live, Harry. Live."

**TBC...**

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**Hey, sorry about the long wait. Writer's block. Ish. And sorry it's shorter than the last chapter.**

**Anyway, there's chapter 2. And I know that nurses and surgeons aren't allowed to treat relatives and close friends but I made that clear in the story that Hermione was the only one that could save him.**

**Pleez review!**

**DREWHHR**


	3. A Hole in Your Heart

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

_Chapter Three_

_A Hole in Your Heart_

_Six Months Earlier_

"NOOOOOOO!"

Hermione woke from a light sleep by a strangled scream. '_Not again. No. Harry!_' she thought to herself and threw back her covers, running out of her room and next door to Harry's. She turned the knob and threw open the door. "Harry!" she called out immediately.

He was thrashing around in his bed, yelling. He was tangled in his bed sheets, struggling to get out of them. "No! Don't kill them! Don't kill them! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

She ran to his bedside. "Harry! Harry, wake up!" She shook his shoulder, trying to rouse him from his nightmare. "Harry!"

His eyes snapped open and he gasped for air. He shot up like a bolt in bed, nearly crashing his head into hers. He panted, his breath rapid. Almost hyperventilating. Cold sweat soaked his shirt and face. "Shhh, it's okay. Calm down. Calm down, Harry," she whispered, trying to soothe him. She ran her hand through his hair. "It's okay. I'm here."

Tears gathered in his eyelids. She watched as he tried not to let them fall. But to no avail. He burst into tears, burying his head in her shoulder as he sobbed. "Why did they all have to die?"

Hermione held him against her, rocking him gently, rubbing his back soothingly. She, too, felt tears well up in her eyes. It had been nearly five years since the War had ended and Harry was still having nightmares. "Shh, it's okay. It's okay. I'm here. It's going to be okay, Harry."

After a few minutes, Harry lifted his head from her shoulder, his breathing was back to normal. "Excuse me," he said and she scooted over on the bed to let him out. He untangled the sheets from around him and stood up from the bed. He crisscrossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt, and peeled it off of his skin, revealing his toned and bruised, muscled back, which showed that he had taken quite a beating during his last Auror mission. He tossed his sweat-soaked shirt into his hamper and walked over to his dresser, taking out a fresh, clean one.

As he put it over his head, Hermione asked him, "Are you okay?" '_Stupid question_' she thought. Of course he wasn't okay. "I guess you forgot to take a Dreamless Sleep Potion."

"I thought I would try to sleep without it. I can't be dependent on them forever. Didn't work, I guess," he turned around back toward her, wiping his eyes, trying to dry them of his tears. She stood up and walked over to him. He refused to look at her. Ashamed. "I meant to cast a Silencing Charm before I went to sleep but I forgot. I'm sorry I woke you."

"Don't worry about it," she said immediately. It was true that she had had nightmares, too, but they had stopped several months after the Final Battle. "I'm a light sleeper anyway." She sighed and asked him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

When he didn't respond, Hermione opened her mouth to say "_You don't have to_" but he began, "They're about the War. Normally, I just relive watching people die, like Snape and Dobby, and I even see the ones I never saw die, like Colin Creevey, Fred, Remus, Tonks. Sometimes I dream about Bellatrix torturing you and listening to your screams at Malfoy Manor. Most of the time, though...something...more terrible plagues me at night. It's interesting how it's the things that never happened scare me the most. The unknown. What _could _have been. Over and over and over and over again like a movie reel, I see you dying. I see you bleed and look up at me and you ask me 'why?' Why did I let you die? Why did I let everyone else die? When I wake up, I'm terrified because I can't believe that I let someone who is so smart and beautiful and kind and loving die. And I begin to hate myself. And sometimes I want to go to your room and make sure it wasn't real. But I don't because I don't want to wake you. I don't know what I would have done if you had died in the War. I probably would've given up much sooner than this. I probably would have thrown myself off of the Astronomy Tower."

"Harry, don't say that."

"It's true, though," he replied sharply. "You and Teddy are the only good things in my life right now. The only things that keep me going. But at night, the nightmares take over and try to keep me from being happy." He rubbed his face with his hands roughly and then fisted his hair tightly. Then he began to hit his head with his fists, tears leaking out again. His face scrunched up trying to stop them from falling. It didn't work. "I just want them to stop," he sobbed pitifully.

Hermione grabbed his wrists to get him to stop hurting himself. "Hey, hey, hey. Harry. Shh. It's okay." She embraced him and held him to her chest tightly. "I'm right here. I'm very much alive, okay? It wasn't your fault. It _wasn't_ your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself."

"I can't do this anymore, Hermione."

"Can't do what anymore?"

He lifted his head from her shoulder and turned around, walking toward the window. He couldn't look at her. He didn't want to see the pity in her eyes when he told her.

"Feel."

That was when the tears began to flow freely from Hermione's eyes. Her heart ached for him. He was a broken man and she wanted to help put him back together but she didn't know how. She had tried everything to help him cope. She had told him that the survivors of the people that lost loved ones didn't blame him either. That they looked at him as someone who saved them. But he could not be moved. Harry's pain was a kind that Healers could not heal. She could not believe it had gone as far as this. "Harry...you can't just _not_ feel anymore." She chuckled half-heartedly. The notion of not feeling was absurd.

"It hurts too much when I feel. I can't feel happy anymore. I don't even remember what it was like. All I feel is despair and guilt. You tell me not to blame myself. That it wasn't my fault. But I can't think that way, Hermione. I just _can't_. There's something inside of me that won't let me. I'm drowning in a dark, depressed abyss of anguish and I don't know how to get out. And it keeps getting worse. It's like I have a hole in my heart, Hermione. A hole that keeps getting bigger and bigger. It's like there are demons inside of me eating away at it, taking everything that was good and replacing them with everything that is bad. And I don't know what to do to heal it. And if I can't heal it, then I'll just have to get rid of my emotions. Because...I don't know how I can go on. I fear I'm too far gone in this abyss. No one can save me. Not even you."

Hermione felt like Harry had just stabbed her in the heart. How _dare _he say that? How dare he say she can't help him? Maybe that was her Healer voice talking. But she wanted him to know that anyone can be helped. "It's not too late for you to be saved, Harry. It's never too late." She wiped her eyes. "Tell you what, I'll stay with you tonight, okay? If you feel scared, wake me up. Don't feel guilty about waking me up. Just do it."

He nodded and climbed back into his bed. "Thank you." Hermione crawled in after him, spooning her front to his back. She reached around and grabbed his hand and held it tight. "It's going to be okay, Harry. I'm right here. I won't let go. I won't give up on you."

Soon, she heard his even breathing and knew he was asleep. A tear rolled down her cheek as she realized something. Something major. And scary.

Harry had lost the will to live.

* * *

_Present Day_

Hermione remembered that night. She was so scared for him. She was scared he was suicidal. And now, here he was: dying with a hole in his heart because he was trying to protect the innocent. She honestly didn't know if she could love him more. He didn't want other people to suffer so he suffered for them.

As she finished bandaging his chest, she heard a knock on the hospital room door. "Yes?" she called out. The door opened and Torrens stood there. She had Hermione's bottomless bag in her hands. "We got everyone stable. A few are going into surgery. I thought you might want to change out of your Healer robes so I brought you your bag from the locker room."

"Thank you, Gemma. That was kind of you."

"How's he doing?" she asked walking in and giving the bag down to Hermione, who took it and went into the bathroom to change, while Torrens looked after Harry for a moment.

"I just finished bandaging him up. He's stable, which I hope he stays that way. And he has minimal bleeding so I'll have to administer Blood Replenishing Potions every now and then," she answered through the door.

"So, you're going to talk to him?"

Hermione walked out the bathroom, now in a pair of comfortable jeans, a lavender-colored shirt, and a grey hooded jacket. "Yeah. I need to talk to him to try to get him to heal himself. So, could you look after my patient, Lucy, for me, please? In 412?"

"Of course. I'd be happy to."

"Thank you."

"Good luck." With that, Torrens left the room, shutting the door.

Hermione sat down in the chair next to the bed and got to work. She looked at his troubled and stressed face.

"Harry, it's me, Hermione. I don't know if you heard me before but there's a hole in your heart. I put you under the Core Strengthening Spell. What it does is allows the person to heal themselves through magic. And...I need you to do that for me, okay? I _need_ you to heal yourself. I know that you've lost the will to live but I'm going to try to change your mind. I'm going to talk to you. Try to help you through this. So, just listen for me. Please."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts. Thinking of what to say to him.

Trying to decide where to start.

"Remember that night when you finally admitted to me you didn't want to feel anymore? I was so scared. I was scared to admit it. I was scared because I was starting to feel that there was no way I could help you. I was scared because you felt like you were too far gone. You were dreaming about things that never happened. You were feeling things that you should not feel. You were feeling loss for people that you had not lost. But, Harry, emotions are what make you who you are. Anger, grief, sadness, fear. Yes, to not want to feel those feelings would be an absolute godsend. But if we can't feel...then what's the point? What's the point of living? You disgusted me that night, Harry. I _never _want you to give up. I _never _want you to feel like you don't want to feel. I don't fancy a zombie for a best friend, you know? You need to learn to let the good emotions overshadow the bad. Happiness, joy, hope...love. Love, especially. Love conquers all. Love is what gets us through the day. It what makes us go on even when every other part of ourselves are telling us to give up. And, Harry, I need you to know that you are loved."

Hermione glanced up at the suspended Diagnosis Spell above his chest. She frowned.

The hole had not budged. It did not show signs of sealing up. It was still the same size.

"You should know me by now. I don't give up. So, hold on, Harry. I'm just getting started."

**TBC...**

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**I know. It's probably not as powerful as you would have thought but I have a big monologue in mind for Hermione to say so stay tuned. It's gonna be awesome.**

**Pleez review!**

**DREWHHR**


	4. Remember

**Wassup? Thanks for the reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

_Chapter Four_

_Remember_

_Two Years Ago_

Hermione sat on the couch reading a book. It was nearing nine o'clock at night. The television was on, the volume low. A children's movie was playing. She held the book in one hand and with the other, stroked her three-year-old godson's head. He was laying his head on her lap, asleep. Hermione's mind wasn't in her book. It was elsewhere. It was on her best friend. He was away on an Auror mission. His first Auror mission away from home. It had been almost a month since he had left. She hadn't heard anything in two weeks when Harry sent an owl letting her and Teddy know he was okay. They were not allowed to contact their loved ones often for their safety. She shut her book and set it on the end table next to her. A small smile ghosted her face as she looked at Teddy. She stroked his brown hair with both hands now. She saw his mouth twitch as he dreamed. _'It's okay, Teddy. Daddy's fine. He's fine_' she mentally reassured her godson and herself.

As if on cue, the phone rang. "Shit," Hermione whispered, worried it woke her godson. She looked down at him but he was still out like a light. _'Wish I could sleep like that' _she thought. She carefully maneuvered Teddy's head off of her lap and gently laid him down on the couch after she stood up. He stirred a bit but did not wake up. She sighed and rushed over to the phone on the hook by the kitchen and answered it, "Hello?" She moved into the kitchen so she wouldn't wake Teddy up.

At first, Hermione didn't hear anything. But then, soft breathing was heard on the other line, followed by a slight whimper. Her heart jumped in her chest. "...Harry...? Harry, is that you?"

"_Hermione_..." she heard.

She sighed with relief. "Harry...it's so good to hear your voice. Are you okay?"

Suddenly, she could hear what sounded like him trying not to sob loudly. He was crying. A tear leaked out her eye. "It's okay. You don't have to talk. I understand. Just, be safe. I'm worried about you. Teddy is worried about you, too. He's always asking about you. Every morning, he crawls into my bed and asks if you're coming home today. I want you to come home soon, okay? You come home. I miss you. So much."

"_I...I...you..._" she heard and the line went dead.

"Harry? Harry?!" She dropped to her knees, the phone laid at her side. She held her hand up to her mouth and sobbed into her hand. What was happening?! Why did he just hang up? Was it for their safety? Was he being ambushed?

"Mummy...?" she heard from behind her.

She quickly dried her tears and sniffled before turning around to look at her godson. He was standing there rubbing his eye. "Hey, Teddy. Did I wake you?" she asked trying to compose herself. Trying to look strong in front of him.

He looked at the phone next to her and then back at her. "Daddy?"

"Daddy's fine, sweetheart. Don't worry."

"I miss Daddy."

"I know you do. I miss him, too. L-let's get you to bed, huh?" Hermione stood up, grabbing the phone and putting it on the hook. She took her godson's hand and went turn the television off in the living room.

She lifted Teddy into her arms and went into her godson's bedroom. She laid him underneath the covers and tucked him in. Kissing him on the forehead, she said, "Daddy's going to be just fine. Get some sleep, okay?"

He nodded.

"Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Mummy." And clutching his teddy bear, he rolled onto his side, and fell asleep.

* * *

_Present Day_

"You gave us quite a scare there, Harry Potter? Remember?" Hermione asked her comatose friend as she changed his bandage and poured another vial of Blood Replenishing Potion down his throat. "I put Teddy to bed and not ten minutes later, he came into my room and asked to sleep in my bed with me. We were worried about you. I remember when you came home and told me you had called because you hadn't slept in two weeks. You needed to know we were okay. I'm glad you called us. I needed to hear your voice. _I _needed to know _you _were okay. And Teddy...Teddy was scared something had happened to his godfather. He was only three then. And I'm scared of what I will say to him if you don't heal yourself. He will be devastated. You have a chance, Harry. You have a chance to live and you need to take that chance. For me. And for Teddy."

She sat down in her chair and checked the time on the clock on the wall. _1:27_. It was early. In a few hours, she would have been up for twenty-four hours. That was nothing, though. Her first shift as an intern was forty-eight hours long. She was used to this. And she had taken a few twenty-minute naps today in the on-call room. She couldn't fall asleep now. Harry's life was at stake. She sent a Patronus page to Gemma, asking for a cup of coffee.

Five minutes later, the door opened and Gemma walked in. "Hey, Hermione, here's your coffee."

Hermione took it gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"How is he?"

She took a long sip, flinching a bit as the coffee was scalding hot. She answered, "No change. I'm scared for him. I want him to be fine. I _need _him to be fine. I swear, if he doesn't come out of this..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying not to cry.

"Hermione...he's Harry fucking Potter. He's going to be fine. We all believe in you. We all believe you can do this."

"Thanks."

"Update on Weasley: his wife is here. She arrived a couple of hours ago. We told her and Weasley about Potter and what you're doing. We asked them not to disturb you. Is that okay?"

"Yes, that's fine. I'll notify them when there's a change. Go get some sleep. You look like hell," she said lightly.

Gemma chuckled and left, shutting the door.

Hermione looked back at Harry and sighed heavily and unsteadily, almost a shudder. "Hear that, Harry? You're Harry fucking Potter. You can get through this. You need to fight." She bit her lip, trying to figure out what else to say. "Remember...remember when Teddy started calling us 'Mummy' and 'Daddy'? Remember how scared you were? You were afraid Andromeda was going to be mad. But she wasn't. She was excited. She was happy because Teddy had lost his real parents but she wanted him to have a real family. I remember you were scared because you didn't know if you would make a good father. Just you questioning yourself that means you will be an amazing father. And you are, Harry. No matter how sad or depressed you were, you still made the effort to play with him."

* * *

_One year ago_

"Daddy's sad," Teddy told Hermione as they sat at the kitchen table eating dinner. He told them to eat without him, claiming he was going to go shower. Hermione knew he was avoiding them.

"I know."

"I wish he wasn't."

"Me too, sweetheart. Me too." She decided to change the subject. "Is your food good?"

He nodded vigorously, taking a bite of his spaghetti.

Suddenly, they heard grunting and something sliding on the floor down the hall. Hermione gave Teddy a confused look. "What's that?" He shrugged and the two of them stood from the table and went to the living room. Harry was pulling his mattress down the hall and into the living room. He used his wand to move the coffee table behind the couch out of the way. He laid the mattress in the middle of the living room. Then, he summoned pillows and blankets from his room, Hermione's room, Teddy's room, and from the linen closet. He unfolded a large, king-sized sheet and levitated it above the bed. He placed the pillows all around the bed.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked curiously.

He looked at her with sparkling green eyes. They weren't smiling but it was best she'd seen him in a while. "Not being sad."

That was when Hermione realized he had heard them talking in the kitchen. "I'm building us a fort."

Teddy grinned. "A fort?!" He jumped with excitement and immediately went to help him, grabbing a pillow and plopping down on the bed. "Can we eat dinner in the fort, Mummy?!" he asked her.

"I guess so. If Daddy eats with us."

"Please eat with us, Daddy."

"I will," Harry smiled slightly.

They ate a quiet, happy dinner in the fort. Then, Harry put the sheet that was over the bed over the television so that they could see it in the fort. He turned it on and Teddy popped a Disney movie in their new DVD player Harry had bought the previous month. They laid down on the pillows and under the blankets; Teddy in the middle with his head on Harry's chest. Harry wrapped his arm around his shoulders, holding him against him. It was peaceful. It felt nice. It was the first time in a long time they had ever really did anything together as a family. It was also the first time in a long time Hermione had seen Harry this happy. She watched him throughout the movie as Teddy explained to him some of the details of the Disney tale. Harry was listening intently as the four-year-old talked animatedly. He looked calmed and almost full of life. She knew, though, it might not last.

When the characters Woody and Buzz Lightyear in the movie were able to settle their differences and become friends, Harry and Hermione suddenly heard sniffling. They looked at each other first. When they saw that neither of them were crying they looked down at the four-year-old, who was beginning to cry. Harry took him in his arms and sat him on his lap. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Hermione scooted a bit closer and began to wipe away Teddy's tears. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" she repeated.

"I lost all my friends."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I lost all my friends from school." It was clear the friendship shown in _Toy Story _made Teddy remember his friends from school and he was now missing them.

"You haven't lost them. It's just the summer hols. You'll see them again in September."

"But I don't have my friends."

"Hey, hey, hey. Listen to me," Harry said. He sat Teddy so that he was facing him. "Put your hands on my face." Teddy did. Harry usually told Teddy to do this so that he could pay attention to him. "Am I your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Mummy your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Grandma Meda your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Uncle Ron your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Aunt Luna your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Aunt Ginny your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Uncle George your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Uncle Percy your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Uncle Bill your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Aunt Fleur your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Uncle Charlie your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Grandma Molly your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Victoire your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Grandma Charlotte your friend?"

"Yes."

"Is Grandpa Jacob your friend?"

"Yes."

"So, wouldn't you say you still have friends?" Harry asked him.

Teddy hesitated but nodded, throwing his arms around his godfather's neck for a hug. Then he settled himself back in between his godparents and Hermione scooted back over to her spot. She gave Harry an endearing smile, like her heart was breaking. Harry was such a good father. She wished he was like this all the time. She wished he would fall out of his depression.

When the movie was over, Teddy insisted on watching the second one even though it was nearing his bedtime. Nevertheless, Harry popped it in and they watched it. When it was finished, Teddy was asleep. Harry pushed the POWER button on both the DVD player and the television remote and shut the movie off. He looked at Hermione and smiled slightly. She smiled back. "How did it feel 'not being sad'?" she asked him quietly so as to not wake up Teddy.

"Good," he replied; his face now expressionless.

"Good," she repeated. "I'm glad, Harry. I'm glad you thought of this. We needed this. _You _needed this. Why don't we get some sleep, okay?"

Harry nodded, removed his glasses, and they both lay down on the mattress. "Good night, Hermione."

"Good night, Harry. Sweet dreams," she told him. '_Please have sweet dreams. You need them_.'

* * *

_Present Day_

"Remember how happy Teddy was when you built the fort and we watched his favorite movies? Remember how happy _you _were? We can do that again. We can build another fort. But I just need you to heal your heart and wake up. I need you to remember what that felt like for you and want it again," Hermione urged as a tear dropped at the memory. She took his hand into her own and stroked back his dark fringe with her other. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I know I am strong. I know I am. But I don't know who I would be without you. You're my best friend. My constant companion. You're my person, Harry. You're the one I go to. Who will I go to when you are gone? I don't want another person. I want you. We've been through so much together. We went through a War. We have a godchild together. We were there for each other when things were rough. We used to do our own form of therapy right after the War, remember? You would sneak into my room in the middle of the night or I would sneak into your room. And we'd just lay there until one of us started talking. Or we didn't have to talk. It was nice to just..._be_. Just exist. And I don't know if you felt it, Harry. I think you did, though. I could feel it that _you _felt it, too. But I always thought that there could be the possibility of something more. Something stronger."

She sniffled, then reached over to the bedside table to grab a tissue to wipe her eyes and nose.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Hermione quickly dried her eyes and shakily said, "Come in." The door opened and Hermione's eyes widened. The last person she thought she would see was standing there in the doorway.

It was her fellow Gryffindor Dean Thomas. "Dean?" He looked disheveled, like he just rolled out of bed. He probably did, at this late hour. He was panting heavily as if he had been running.

"It's true. I didn't believe it but it's true," he said with astonishment as he looked at Harry.

"What's true?"

"Ron told me he jumped in front of the curse. He saved him. My little brother. Harry saved him!"

**TBC...**

* * *

**So now you know who the little boy was. I was thinking about just making him some random little boy but then I thought about bringing in a character from the past.**

**By the way, the scene with Harry asking Teddy if all of those family members were his friends is a true story that just happened with my sister's boyfriend and his 8-year-old son. Like it happened just now. I'm sorry for stealing moment but it was amazing and I thought it would be a great moment between Harry and Teddy.**

**And I did my homework and DVD players came out in 2000. The flashback with the fort was set in 2001. And _Toy Story _and _Toy Story 2 _came out on DVD on October 17, 2000 as a double feature. At least, in the US it did.**

**And I know it's weird that Teddy calls them "Mummy" and "Daddy" but I like it.**

**I plan for Hermione's BIG monologue for the next chapter. Really excited. Been thinking about it since I started the story.**

**Pleez review!**

**DREWHHR**


	5. Despair

**Thanks for the reviews!**

**Okay, so I had THE speech in my head, obviously, for a while now and it was easy writing it but I needed more but I was at a writer's block. THEN, I went see Disney Pixar's "Inside Out" and I got an idea! Thank you, Disney Pixar!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

_Chapter Five_

_Despair_

"W-what?" Hermione asked shocked.

"Harry saved my little brother, Sam," Dean repeated.

"Oh, my God. Is your little brother okay?"

"He's just fine. A little shaken up, though. The Healers scanned him for dark curses. Nothing too extreme, thank Merlin. They were able to remove them. When I heard Harry and Ron's Auror team were involved, I immediately went find them. I found Ron first and he told me that Harry jumped in front of Sam and took a modified _Sectumsempra _curse," he told her.

"Ron said he thinks the Death Eater knew it was Harry and knew he would jump in front of him. Your little brother-is he...like us? A Muggleborn?"

Dean nodded. "Yes. He's a Muggleborn. They're experimenting on Muggleborns. It's sick." Hermione could see him gulp when he said "muggleborn". Five years later and they still weren't safe. They were still being experimented on. "How is he?" Dean gestured toward Harry.

"Not very well. The spell hit his heart. I had to put him in an induced coma. I put the Core Strengthening spell on him. It allows him to heal himself through his own magic."

"Well, good luck, Hermione. Let me know when he wakes up. I want to thank him personally. I have to get back to my family now," Dean said.

Hermione nodded. "I will."

Dean left, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione looked back at Harry and said, "Did you hear all of that? You saved Dean's little brother. He wants to thank you. Which is another reason why you have to heal yourself and wake up, Harry. I don't think he would forgive himself if you died and he didn't get to say 'thank you'." She sighed as she checked his Diagnosis Spell for his vitals. That damn nick won't even budge. She changed his bandage again and poured another vial of Blood Replenishing Potion down his throat. Then, she grabbed his hand again and held it.

Suddenly, she had it. A light bulb went off in her head. She knew what to do. She inhaled deeply and let it out heavily. She hesitated before she opened her mouth. "I have this patient. She's ten years old. You'd love her, Harry. She broke her leg after stealing her older brother's broomstick and taking it on a joyride. Anyway, earlier she asked me what I became a Healer and not an Auror. She knew how well my spellwork was from history books. Before I could answer her, you lot were dragged in. I don't know if I could have answered her right then and there. But I think I can now. I became a Healer instead of an Auror...because of you."

* * *

_Five Years Ago_

Voldemort led the party of Death Eaters and Hagrid back to the castle from the Forbidden Forest. Both sides watched as they walked back into the courtyard. Hermione stood up from the stairs, Ron right beside her. Hagrid was carrying something in his arms. It looked like a body. A _limp_ As they got closer and closer, Hermione could see his familiar jeans and jacket. A light reflected off of his glasses. She realized it was Harry.

_'No. No. I won't believe it. He's not dead__' _she thought desperately. Her heart stopped in her chest and then sped a mile a minute.

"Look upon your hero," Voldemort taunted gesturing toward the limp body in the gentle giant's arms. Many people began to murmur and whisper.

"_Is that Harry?_"

"_No. It can't be him_."

"_It's him_."

"_He's dead_."

"He begged me to do it. Begged me to kill him. He was weak."

"No..." Hermione breathed out loud.

"Harry Potter...is dead!"

"NO!" All Hermione saw was red. She wanted to strangle Voldemort with her own bare hands. She forgot about the Horcruxes. She forgot that they needed to destroy the rest of the Horcruxes to kill him. She didn't care. She wanted to destroy him. He had killed the person she loved with all her heart and she wanted him to pay. She wanted him to know just how much he had hurt her. She tried to run at him but Ron caught her around her waist. She struggled and kicked but he wouldn't let her go. Tears streamed down her face. "HARRY! HARRY!"

* * *

_Present Day_

"Thank Merlin you weren't dead, Harry. I was so relieved when you fell out of Hagrid's arms and stood up. But in that moment when I thought you were dead-that was the scariest moment of my life. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. All I wanted to do was kill Voldemort for killing you. I wanted you back. I wanted to somehow make you alive again. I didn't care what it took. A few days later, I was lying awake in bed remembering that moment. And it was at that moment I decided that I wanted to heal people. I never want anyone else feel the way I did when I thought you were dead. I never want anyone to experience that. So that's why I'm a Healer. So that people will never have to know loss. I would never wish that upon anyone. Not even my worst enemy. Maybe I did then but not now. Because when that happens to someone-when they feel loss-it tears them apart. It rips them to pieces. I saw it rip you to pieces. I saw the guilt. I saw the sorrow. It tore away your humanity and left...a hole in your heart. It tried to rip your emotions away from you. And what it does is leave you an empty shell. Something was always missing. And I know you know what it is, Harry."

Hermione bit her lip, thinking of what else to say. Harry still hadn't tried to heal himself. She wanted to take him by the shoulders and force him to be happy and heal himself. But then, she stopped herself and realized something. This whole time she had been trying to cheer him up. If she knew anything it was that you must be sad before you can be happy. So she tried one last approach. She leaned in close and closed her eyes. She breathed in deep and then out and then she spoke:

"Harry, I want you to think about when you heard the number of people that had died. I want you to think about when you saw the bodies of the dead. Remember? When they were all lined up in the courtyard? And I came up to you and took your hand and squeezed it tight. But you pulled away and ran to the Astronomy Tower. You were scared. You were scared that I blamed you. That we all did. I know you didn't want to show it but I know you wanted to end it. To end your life. I chased after you. I calmed you down and eventually, you relented. But that was the beginning. Remember at the funerals? I saw the guilt again. It showed itself again. You remained hidden in the back. And when you saw Teddy, you saw yourself. An orphan. But you wanted to give him the best life he could ever have. And you did, Harry. He has the best life any kid could ever ask for. I am not asking you to be happy, Harry. I am asking you to feel sad. But this time, I am here, okay? I am here and I am NOT letting you go."

* * *

Harry could hear her every word. But inside his mind, he was in the in-between: the borderline between Life and Death. It was almost blinding white around him. He had been here before. The King's Cross station. Straight across from him, about fifty feet or possibly more on the other platform, were all of the people that had died that he knew. He saw his parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin Creevey, Mad-Eye Moody, Dumbledore, and numerous others that had died in the War. They were all staring at him with vacant expressions on their faces. It was a bit unnerving but Harry could not look away.

He was conflicted. If he stayed and healed his chest, he would live with the guilt and depression. But if he let go and went on, he could stop endangering people. Hermione and Teddy would be better off without him. And he could finally be at peace. "What do you want me to do?" he asked his parents that were across from him. They didn't answer. Of course they didn't. They weren't there to help him with his decision. Well, maybe they were there to entice him. To make him want to be with his family again.

But what Hermione was saying now was making so much sense to him. He was remembering these things. He remembered the bodies. Sixty-seven. That was the number of dead bodies in the courtyard. They were standing right across from him now. He remembered the feel of her sweaty, yet warm hand inside of his. It felt nice. But he felt as if he did not deserve it. Anyone he touched was in danger. So he ran away to the tallest tower at Hogwarts with the intent of leaving this world. He remembered Hermione's kind words to get him to go with her. He remembered the funerals. The rain. The sobs. He didn't look anyone in the eye when they looked back at him. He tried to camouflage himself as much as he could. He remembered Teddy's innocent face sleeping in his godmother's arms. He felt the guilt of his parents' deaths. Would Teddy blame him when he was older? The more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that Hermione had been there for him the entire time. She never left him. She never gave up on him. And he was grateful for it. But why had she stuck around him through it all? He knew what he felt for her. But he just could not see her feeling the same way after the War. How could she love him? He realized then and there that he did not want her to leave him. Ever.

And he wanted to be with Teddy again. He wanted to build a fort again and watch movies. He wanted to hold Hermione and never let her go. But he did not want to be a burden to them again. He wanted them to be happy. And the only way they could do that was if he wasn't there darkening their lives.

Inside his mind, he collapsed and curled up into a ball and began to sob. He felt warm and cold at the same time.

_"Please, Harry. Please, we can do this. One day at a time. I won't ever give up on you. I love you too much to do that to you. You hear me? I love you."_

And, he made his decision.

"I'm sorry..." was what he said. "I'm so sorry."

TBC...

* * *

**Cliffhanger. Haha. Not as long as I'd hoped. Next chapter should be longer. I almost had Hermione create a mind-link with him and she would see him sobbing but I needed the cliffhanger.**

**Seriously, though, go see "Inside Out". It explains so much about letting go of things. And bring tissues.**

**Pleez review!**

**DREWHHR**


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